


i'll wrap my hands around your neck (so tight with love)

by doctorkaitlyn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta, Beacon Hills Preserve, Canon Divergence, M/M, but there is fluff and the Nemeton didn't screw every one up, i have no idea how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:46:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Nemeton is dormant, the Hales and the alpha pack are gone and Scott can't sleep. It's not nightmares; it's just a constant chorus of <i>what ifs</i>, of wondering what could (or might still) happen.  So he starts running in the preserve at night, running until he's too exhausted to stay awake any longer.  </p><p>One night, Isaac is in the forest waiting for him and from that point on, there really isn't any going back.  Slight canon divergence after episode 312.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll wrap my hands around your neck (so tight with love)

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know where the idea for this came from; I think I just got knocked over by a massive wave of Scisaac feels and this is my attempt to work through them. I hope you lovely readers enjoy and if any of you want to come talk to me about this marvelous ship (or anything else, really), you can find me at winchester-cheekbones.tumblr.com. xo.
> 
> PS: Title comes from [Up in the Air](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NrFQRn2yYWs) by 30 Seconds to Mars.

It's two AM on a Friday morning and Scott is pretty sure he has history homework due the next day but instead of lying in his bed, he's walking, pounding the pavement of Beacon Hills, holding a massive coffee and a bag of donuts from an all-night diner that's just down the road from Beacon Hills Memorial. His mom is working until seven and Scott knows that when he gets to the hospital, she's going to give him the same speech she's been giving him for the last four nights in a row; by now, he's practically got it memorized. 

_Scott, you can't keep coming down here in the middle of the night. You have to get some sleep._

But that's the problem. He's tried to sleep, he really has but ever since he took the plunge into darkness, sleeping hasn't come easily. Every time he shuts his eyes, his brain just goes into overdrive, suffocating him with _what if_ situations, plaguing him with Deaton's ominous warnings over and over again. When it first started, he'd been able to drown it all out with a movie or a video game or with talking to Stiles on Skype until one of them passed out but with the additional stress from school being back in, those distractions are no longer enough. It doesn't matter how many movies he puts on, how many rounds of Halo he plays; when he lays down in his bed, his brain is wide awake, running through scenario after scenario, torturing him with images of his mom and Stiles' dad buried underneath the earth.

So instead of just laying there, staring at the ceiling until the sun comes up, he walks. Every night, once he hears Isaac's breathing go quiet and regular in his room down the hall, he sets out. Since his mom has been working the late shift, the first thing he does is grab her a snack, drop it off and listen to her well-meaning words (seriously, his mom is the best mom ever, for putting up with all of his crap) but after that, it always depends, depends on where his wolf demands to go. Usually, it leads him on a rambling course through Beacon Hills, past Stiles' house and Lydia's and Danny's and, occasionally, Allison's. Regardless of where it leads him, he always stops outside and listens. He focuses until he can hear his friends breathing inside, focuses until he can hear that they're safe.

However, his wolf always ends the night by leading him back to the preserve and after only two nights, he understands why. The preserve is where it all began, it's the only place where he can really let the wolf out to just _run_ and even though he can still feel the Nemeton buzzing when he ventures deep into the woods, it's dormant for the time being. The buzzing is more of a reminder of its power, a reminder that it isn't quite done yet and although no malevolent creatures have plagued the town since the darach, Scott stays away from it. 

It's strange being the only alpha in the woods. Between Derek and Peter and the alpha pack, the place had always been full of them but now, with the pack neutralized and the Hales having left town, Scott has free reign and with that knowledge, he runs until there's crushed pieces of leaves embedded underneath his fingernails and sweat cooling on his face. Usually, once he's run himself that hard, he collapses into his bed as soon as he gets home and he wakes up with dirt streaked across his hands and a relatively clear mind.

Two weeks into what has quickly become his new routine, he drops coffee off for his mom and goes straight to the preserve. He's barely stepped into the treeline before his ears perk up. There's a distinctive breathing pattern coming from his right and when he swivels his head in that direction, he catches sight of Isaac sitting in a nearby tree, back against the trunk, long legs hanging down into thin air. At first, he thinks Isaac is sleeping but then his breathing changes and his head turns until he's looking down, smiling slightly.

“How long have you been up there?” Scott asks and Isaac shrugs before swinging himself down, landing lightly on his feet. His movements are getting more and more graceful with each day and Scott finds it hard to reconcile the Isaac that's before him with the rage-fueled, impulsive werewolf he'd known only months ago. He's come a long way and although Scott doesn't like being anything even remotely approaching immodest, he can't help but wonder how much of that change he's responsible for. 

“Only a few minutes,” he says. “I went to talk to you and you were gone and... well, you usually smell like the forest in the morning, so I figured you were going to be coming here.” 

“You wanted to talk to me?” Isaac shrugs again, hands deep in the pocket of the jacket Scott's mom brought him home from Goodwill and _oh_ , it hits Scott like a punch to a jaw. Over time, Isaac's nightmares have decreased but they've far from stopped and usually, when he wakes up from one, he comes in and sits on the edge of Scott's bed and they talk about the most mundane things until he can fall asleep again. Suddenly, Scott feels like such a moron because it's been at least three weeks since the last time that happened and he should have taken that into consideration before he started on his nightly excursions. 

“I'm sorry man,” he sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I should have listened harder before I left, I should have told you where I was going, I-”

“Scott, it's okay,” Isaac interrupts and although Scott can still smell a little bit of panic lingering around him, he decides not to push the issue further because when Isaac gets pushed, he either hides or he viciously fights back and Scott doesn't want to be the cause of either of those things. 

“Do you want to go for a run?” he asks to change the subject (and because he genuinely wants Isaac to come with him) and, just for a split second, Isaac's eyes flash golden in the darkness and he's pretty sure that his flash red in return. 

“Absolutely.” 

***

Usually, it takes Scott at least an hour of steady running to tire himself out but with Isaac, that time is nearly halved. Isaac likes climbing so Scott tries to make a challenge for him. He scrambles up trees that are probably four stories tall, flings himself from one to the other like he's more of a bird than a wolf. He can hear Isaac laughing below him and then the beta is fearlessly throwing himself into space, claws only barely sinking into another tree trunk before he's off again, scampering through branches like it's nothing. Eventually though, he stops in the fork of a tree twenty feet above the ground, pine needles stuck in his hair and Scott drops down the tree until he's on the branch above. On a whim, he tightens his legs around the branch and swings upside down and Isaac's face breaks into a ridiculous grin that Scott very rarely sees. It looks nice on him and even better, the scent of panic has completely disappeared, replaced by adrenaline and what seems an awful lot like joy and Scott's grinning back, ignoring the blood slowly rushing to his head. 

When they get back to the house, Scott just barely manages to send a text to his mom to tell her that they're okay before he falls asleep on his bed, still wearing his shoes and his jacket. Apparently Isaac didn't even manage to make it that far; when Scott stumbles downstairs the next morning to make breakfast, Isaac is curled up on the couch in the living room, his fingers folded into the wrinkled fabric of his jacket. Scott can smell the pine gum still stuck to Isaac's palms and there's a twig caught in the cuff of his jeans and when midnight comes around, Isaac is knocking on his door and asking him if he wants to go for another run. 

His mom is working again, covering for another one of the nurses and the look on her face when he walks in with Isaac is priceless and if it wasn't so intimidating, Scott would actually find it quite funny. He steels himself for another lecture but instead, she just sighs and takes the coffee from his hand and the donuts from Isaac's and shakes her head. 

“At least you're not alone, I guess,” she concedes, leaning up and kissing both him and Isaac on the forehead before she has to get back on duty. They quickly stop by Stiles' where thankfully, the sheriff is home and Scott feels better knowing that Stiles' dad will be able to take care of him if he has another one of his nightmares. The rest of the town is quiet; apparently, they have another night off from being plagued by supernatural creatures. Nonetheless, once they reach the trees, Scott feels like the weight of the world (or at least the weight of Beacon Hills) has fallen off his shoulders and once he's off the path, he shifts effortlessly. He's just sunk his claws into the nearest tree, ready to climb, when Isaac breezes past him, jacket flapping against his waist. Quick as a whip, his hand plucks Scott's cell phone out of the front pocket of his jeans and then he's off, laughing over his shoulder and Scott gets this; this is competition and he's already chasing after his beta, growling through his fangs as he moves faster than any human is capable of. 

Isaac is getting quicker with each day, he'll give him that, and he's remarkably agile when he's flying through the trees. Scott can hear him above him, easily bounding from one limb to the other, sending leaves and twigs falling in his fray. Scott doesn't fall for it, however; he stays on the ground, eyes and ears trained towards the canopy above him and when Isaac inevitably comes down, Scott easily tackles him around the waist, snatching his phone back before it gets broken again. 

“Well, that was fun,” Isaac pants from where he's lying on the ground underneath Scott, grinning through his fangs. It's only been around twenty minutes since they entered the preserve but Scott is already starting to feel tired out. Nonetheless, he isn't quite ready to leave the forest yet so he rolls over so that he's on his back and cushions his head on his arms. There's a gap in the trees above them and if he squints a little bit, he thinks that he can make out the Big Dipper.

“What are you looking at?” Isaac asks and when Scott points out the stars, his beta moves over until they're pressed together from head to toe. Scott knows a little bit about some of the other constellations, remembers some vague stories from the summer where he'd been trying to learn a little bit of everything in order to impress Allison and, swallowing past the lump in his throat, he reels them off, drawing them in the air for Isaac's benefit. After about the fourth, he closes his eyes for just a brief moment, just so that he can summon up enough energy to get back home and when he opens them again, the sun is shining through the trees. There's a kink in the small of his back and his phone is vibrating in his pocket and Isaac's fingers are tangled with his own. He answers the call from his mom with his free hand (who is more than a little livid and threatens to chain him up in his room if he falls asleep in the forest again) and by the time he ends the call, Isaac has stirred awake. Scott watches his eyes flicker down to where their fingers are still twisted together and when Isaac abruptly yanks his hand away, he can hear the rhythm of his heart spike with confusion. 

“Hey, it's okay,” he says, squeezing Isaac's shoulder and he isn't lying. If he'd woken up three months ago to find that he was holding hands with Isaac Lahey, he thinks that he might have freaked out but that was then, this is now and it doesn't feel wrong, at all. He doesn't know what that says about him but frankly, weirder things have happened so he really isn't that bothered by it. He waits until Isaac smiles slightly before he stands up, stretching his arms into the air to get rid of the kink in his back.

“We have half an hour to get to school. Wanna race back home?” Isaac breathes a sigh that is distinctly laced with relief and then he's taking off, boots crunching over twigs and leaves but even with his slight head start, Scott manages to overtake him and by the time Isaac gets through the front door, Scott has changed his clothes and dragged a comb through his hair in an attempt to get rid of the dirt and leaves stuck in it.

They take his dirt bike to school and Scott gets to history class with exactly one minute to spare. He didn't have time to take a shower so there's still dirt underneath his fingernails and he wishes he'd thought to swish some Listerine around his mouth. Almost as soon as he falls into his spot just behind Stiles, his best friend turns around and he has one eyebrow raised and the hint of a smart-ass grin is forming on his mouth. 

“You fall asleep in the forest last night?” he asks. He looks a little better than usual; the bags under his eyes aren't as prominent, which is a good sign and as far as Scott knows, he hasn't had a panic attack in days. He doesn't want to be too optimistic, but things seem to be looking up. 

“How'd you know? Did my mom call you?” Stiles slowly leans forward and reaches behind Scott's ear. When he pulls back, he's holding part of a leaf in his fingertips. 

“I'm not blind,” he says and based on the fact that his little grin has grown to a full blown smirk, there are obviously more words about to come out of his mouth but then the bell goes off and instead, Scott gets a look that clearly says _we're going to talk about this later_. 

Later turns out to be that evening, once he's finished his shift at Deaton's and driven home through the light rain that has started to fall. Stiles is already there once he gets home, history textbook open on his lap, sprawled across Scott's bed like it's his own. It's an image Scott has become quite accustomed to over the course of their friendship but what he _isn't_ used to is seeing his sheets torn off the bed and crumpled into a heap on the floor. 

“Do you have _any_ idea how much dirt you had in your sheets?” Stiles rhetorically asks, glaring down at the heap of fabric like he's afraid it might sprout legs and walk away. Admittedly, Scott hasn't really been spending much time in his bed lately (at least, not time where he was conscious) but now that Stiles mentions it, it _does_ kind of smell like damp earth in his room. 

“It couldn't have been that bad,” he says, flopping onto his bare mattress and kicking at Stiles' legs until he has enough room to stretch out. They work their way through two questions before Isaac knocks on the door frame and even though it's warm enough inside, he's wrapped up in his jacket and his scarf, as if the dampness from the rain outside has seeped into his bones. 

“Do you want to skip tonight?” he asks, casting a glance over at Stiles and out of the corner of his eye, Scott can see the look Stiles is giving him and it plainly reads _what the hell?_

“Nah. The rain won't kill us.” Isaac just nods in response, mutters _Stiles_ underneath his breath and when Stiles mutters _Isaac_ in return, the sheer level of derision in his voice nearly makes Scott burst out into laughter. Once he's left the doorway, Stiles closes his textbook with a loud thwack before swiveling so that he's facing Scott head-on. 

“So, you've been taking off to the forest each night with Issac?” he asks and amazingly, when he says Isaac's name for the second time in a minute, the level of hatred in his voice has actually decreased by a little bit. 

“Yeah. It helps me sleep,” he says. Stiles just nods and, after a moment of contemplation, reaches for the textbook again. Before he actually flips the cover open, he looks back up and Scott knows that Stiles is about to ask something very, very serious and he's not going to be able to lie, even if he wants to. 

“Is this like an Allison thing?” he asks quietly, eyes flickering towards the doorway like he's afraid that Isaac is standing there listening. 

“No.” It isn't a lie, not even a bit. What he'd had with Allison had been beautiful while it had lasted and it had definitely changed his life but even though there is definitely something going on with Isaac, something intangible that he can't nail down, it's not an Allison thing. It's somehow less and somehow more but mostly, it's just _different_ and trying to untangle it kind of hurts his head so he puts on his best reassuring smile and goes back to reading about Japanese internment camps. 

***

Stiles leaves around ten and as soon as Scott gets a text saying that he made it home safely, he knocks on Isaac's door. He's laying on his bed in the dark and Scott can feel the nervous energy rolling off of him. It's two days before the full moon and while he can feel his own wolf stirring under the surface, it isn't nearly as bad as Isaac's. 

It's absolutely pouring outside and by the time they reach the hospital, coffee and donuts in hand, they've seen half a dozen cars slide on the slippery streets. They've hardly even stepped through the doors of the emergency room when Scott is nearly overwhelmed by the mixed smells of blood and pain. He hears the words _car accident_ being shouted into the air and there's a girl lying on a gurney just inside the door, screaming at the top of her lungs, bleeding from a horrid looking gash down the side of her face. Yet through all the cacophony, he still manages to hear Isaac's growl clear as day and when he looks over, Isaac's eyes are glowing golden underneath the fluorescent lights and his claws have punctured the coffee cup in his hand, sending warm liquid to drip all over the floor. Scott quickly tosses the paper bag of donuts aside and before Isaac can take another step towards the bleeding girl, he grabs him by the wrist hard enough to make his bones shift and forcefully pulls him back out into the rain.

He manages to keep his grip on Isaac's wrist all the way to the preserve but as soon as the trees are within sight, Isaac breaks away and takes off running, his chorus of growls turning into a full blown roar. Scott skids to a stop, closes his eyes and focuses because unless he can completely shift, overpowering a werewolf in the throes of blood lust is going to be extremely difficult and very painful.

“I can't let him hurt anyone,” he murmurs, flexing his fingers and sighing with relief as his claws come out. “He's mine. I need to stop him.” 

By the last word, he's fully shifted and he immediately takes off, able to hear Isaac crashing through the trees somewhere in front of him. He doesn't think that there will be anyone camping in the forest, especially with the rain still crashing down but he can't risk it, can't risk Isaac hurting anybody. Intermittently, he hears Isaac howl and over time, his howls get louder and louder and suddenly, they're so loud that they're making Scott's ears ring. But before he has the chance to stop, Isaac is spinning out from a tree in front of him, arm already pulled back to rake his claws across Scott's chest. 

Before the blow lands, the wolf completely takes over and Scott _roars_ with everything he has. The forest goes completely quiet and immediately, Isaac stops his swing but the sudden change in momentum throws his balance off and he does a somersault in the air before he lands awkwardly on one ankle, which snaps loud as thunder. The tortured scream that comes from his mouth is more human than wolf but regardless, it makes Scott's head and heart echo with pain. Isaac's hand closes around Scott's forearm and even when his claws shoot out and puncture his skin, Scott doesn't pull away. This is what it means to be an alpha, he thinks; it means taking care of your wolves, of doing whatever you can to look after them and even if it means a little bit (okay, quite a bit) of pain for him, it's worth it. 

“I'm sorry,” Isaac pants a few minutes later when he retracts his claws, eyes shifting from gold to blue. “I'm so sorry, Scott.” He lowers his head, the back of his neck bared and and his grip on Scott's arm tightens until Scott is pretty sure there are bruises forming on his skin. 

“Do you want to hurt me?” he asks quietly and Jesus, that is the _last_ thing Scott wants to do. He doesn't want to hurt Isaac, not now, not ever, because he's not like Derek or Deucalion, because hurting people is always a last resort, especially when it's someone he cares more and more about with each passing day. So instead, he hauls Isaac to his feet, brushes his wet curls away from his face and wipes water droplets off of his cheekbones. 

“Let's go home,” he says simply. Frankly, Scott is too tired to run the entire way there so they take their time and when Isaac steps closer and tentatively slides his fingers into the gaps between Scott's, Scott feels some kind of vast emotion swell in his chest and he's pretty sure that he grins like a moron for the rest of the walk. 

When they get back to the house, he's in his (still sheetless) bed for all of five minutes before his door opens and Isaac is silhouetted in the opening, wearing a shirt Scott had given him and a pair of pajamas that are somehow too long for him. He doesn't say a word but without hesitation, Scott scoots over and pulls his blankets back so that Isaac can slide in beside him. Technically, Scott supposes that there isn't really enough room for both of them to sprawl comfortably but once he's pulled the blankets back over them, he moves over so that his chest is pressed against Isaac's broad back and it feels right as rain. 

“Scott?” There's no trace of the wolf in Isaac's voice and it's all too easy to catch the twinge of fear just underneath the surface. 

“It's okay,” he says and just to prove it, he drapes one arm over Isaac's ribs and searches until he finds a set of fingers to intertwine his own with once more and just like that, he can hear Isaac's heartbeat slowing to a more optimal speed. His curls are still damp when they brush against Scott's face and he smells like the rain and the trees and that strange feeling swells inside his chest again. He doesn't really understand it but it makes his wolf growl with happiness and while he's more than a little frightened of the implications of that, he falls asleep with a smile on his face. 

He wakes up to thin rays of sunlight coming through his window and Isaac's legs kicking against his own. Scott can feel his heart going a mile a minute underneath his palm and he's whimpering quietly and it takes Scott all of a second to realize _nightmare._ So he squeezes Isaac's hand tight until he can feel the joints of his own hand popping and murmurs _it's okay it's okay I'm here Isaac_ into the back of his neck and eventually, although he doesn't wake up, his legs stop twisting and his breathing slows down and while Scott doesn't go back to sleep, Isaac doesn't move again until the alarm goes off. 

***

The full moon hits on a Saturday and when Scott gets home from Deaton's at six, Isaac is nowhere to be found. He manages to occupy himself for awhile but he's so used to being with people now that his own company is actually pretty boring so he decides to text Stiles to see if he wants to come over. But before he presses the send button, the front door opens and Isaac is standing in the doorway with red cheeks and all Scott can smell is _Allison._

Isaac gets the word _hey_ out of his mouth before Scott is shoving past him, yanking the front door open with enough force that he hears one of the hinges snap but he can't even pretend to care about the door right now; not when his beta, whom he thinks he's fallen in love with, is absolutely covered with the scent of the girl he's been trying to get over. It feels like the worst kind of betrayal and he knows that he should stop, should stop to think things through and act like the alpha he is but the moon is making his skin itch and once he's outside, he doesn't bother trying to resist the shift. He runs through the grass behind his house and pounces into the trees, the sound of his own panting ringing in his ears, pushing himself faster and faster until he feels like he might pass out. 

He doesn't stop running until he's engulfed in the preserve, miles from any buildings or roads and although he wants nothing more than to slash out at the nearest tree, to tear down everything surrounding him, he refuses to give in to the urge. Instead, he climbs thirty, forty, fifty feet up a sturdy trunk until he reaches the thinnest branch that will still support him and then he sits, one leg dangling into nothingness, the other resting on the branch and tries his hardest to think through things in a logical fashion. He knows that it is all too possible that he's merely jumped to conclusions, that there had been a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything. But even if it was the truth, he knows that feeling betrayed is just stupid because it isn't as if he was with Allison, or Isaac for that matter. They're allowed to do whatever they want. 

But just because he knows it's stupid to feel that way doesn't make the feeling itself vanish. 

He hears Isaac before he sees him; frankly, even if he'd just been a human, he thinks it would have been impossible _not_ to hear him. He's coming through the trees and, based on how Scott can hear branches snapping and falling under his feet, he must be up pretty high. 

“Scott!” He's within sight now, approaching Scott from a few trees away, about ten feet below and, instincts taking over, Scott pulls both his legs up and leaps out into the air. His claws sink into another branch and he uses his momentum to propel himself further forward. Behind him, he can hear Isaac yell his name again and although his wolf side wants to stop (because that's what he's supposed to do, he's supposed to look after his betas, not run away from them), the fundamentally human part of him demands that he keeps moving. 

So he does. He runs and climbs until his lungs are begging for him to stop, until his heart is skipping and even then, he only slows down a little bit. He can still hear Isaac behind him, can hear his rapid breathing but when he takes a quick glimpse backwards, he can't see him. When he twists his head back around, he realizes too late that the next tree in his path is probably half a mile away, on the other side of a clearing. 

He also realizes that he's moving too fast to stop. 

He falls ten, fifteen, twenty feet and even though he rolls when he lands, the impact knocks the wind out of him and he falls over onto his back, gasping for air. By the time Isaac steps into the clearing a few moments later, Scott has retracted his claws and his fangs and he's simply laying there, staring up at the stars and trying to get his breath back. The North Star (Polaris, he corrects himself) is right above him and he keeps his eyes on it while Isaac slowly comes across the clearing and sits down near him. He doesn't smell like Allison anymore; rather, he smells like he's bathed in a vat of shower gel and it's borderline unpleasant but in a completely different way. 

“Scott?” In his peripheral vision, Scott can see Isaac's hand reaching out towards him, claws retracting with a faint sound. “Can I explain?” 

“Okay,” Scott says, steadfastly keeping his gaze pointed towards the stars because even though Isaac doesn't smell like Allison anymore, there's a odd fog in his brain that is advocating the use of pain and violence and he's afraid that if he looks at Isaac, he won't be able to hold himself back. He knows that most of it is because of the Nemeton but that doesn't make it any less real and so, when Isaac's hand lands on his elbow, he forces himself to take a deep breath so that he doesn't jerk away.

“It wasn't what you think,” Isaac says quietly, his fingers moving back and forth along Scott's inner arm. “We have art class together, Scott. I just went over there to work on a project.”

“Do you like her?” Scott hates the way he sounds, hates that he sounds like a petulant child but he has to ask. Isaac's hand slips down over his forearm and then he's lying beside him, arms folded underneath his head. 

“I think... I think I used to,” he says slowly, like he's testing each word before he says it. “But I don't know. If I do, it's... it's different.” 

“Different from what?” 

“From this,” Isaac replies and when Scott turns his head, Isaac is looking at him like he's the only person in the world, like he's terrified and hopeful and, possibly, in love and Scott doesn't even need to ask what _this_ is supposed to be because he totally gets it. It's something like loyalty, like acceptance and protection and something Scott can't even begin to explain, something that has to do with the way his wolf growls whenever Isaac is around him. 

“So I freaked out about nothing.” He can't help but laugh, closing his eyes for a moment. Some Alpha he's turning out to be. 

“I hope not.” Scott flicks his eyes open and he turns to look at Isaac again because he isn't exactly sure what that's supposed to mean. 

“What?”

“Well, you were freaking out 'cause... because _this_ exists. I'm not crazy, right?” Scott knows that he could answer that with words but after all they've experienced, after all the crap they've gone through with people making and breaking promises, he doesn't think mere words will cut it. So instead, he props himself up on his elbow and decides to speak with his actions instead. As soon as his lips touch Isaac's, the constriction around his heart begins to fade away and when Isaac's fingers latch on to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer until he's on top of him, it disappears entirely. Isaac's body is almost absurdly warm underneath his own and Isaac's other hand closes around his bicep and Scott is sure that if it wasn't for his tattoo, Isaac's fingertips would be marking his skin with bruises. It feels like a dam has been broken, like this has been in the making for so long and he can't help but smile through the kiss, which is definitely up there with the best he's ever had. Their noses are bumping together and Isaac is smiling too and his ankles are hooked around Scott's calves. His smile quickly shifts into something more reminiscent of a smirk but before Scott can lean back in, he's abruptly burying his face into Scott's shoulder and his body is shaking and Scott quickly flies through the gallery of options. He's either laughing, crying or-

He's yawning. When he pulls away, there's a flash of red on his cheekbones and Scott can't help but chuckle because he looks so embarrassed and, oddly enough, it's actually quite endearing. It makes sense that he's so tired though; almost immediately after Isaac's mouth closes, he finds himself yawning as well and although he would be perfectly content to fall asleep on the forest floor with Isaac beside him, he knows that his mom would kill him and he loves her too much to make her commit homicide. 

“C'mon,” he says, standing up. “Let's go home.” 

When they get back, Isaac takes two steps towards his bedroom door before Scott tugs him into his own room and when Isaac wakes up from a nightmare two hours later, Scott murmurs _it's okay it's okay_ and he still lets Isaac squeeze his hand until his knuckles are popping. The only difference now is that he also presses kisses along Isaac's neck and shoulders until he falls back asleep. 

For the most part, things don't actually change that much. They still go out to the forest most nights, they still have each other's backs, Isaac is still his beta. When they're at school, Isaac and Stiles still snipe at each other like a married couple and Scott still rolls his eyes at them but now, he squeezes Isaac's leg underneath their lunch table when Stiles mutters something about _stupid scarves_. They still go out to the forest but now, they spend half the time running and half the time lying on the grass, kissing and scratching and biting at bared throats and exposed ribs. They sleep in the same bed most of the time but sometimes, that bed gets used for a little bit more than just sleep and when they drop off coffee and donuts for Scott's mom after midnight, they usually walk into the hospital with their fingers entwined. 

It's the same, but it's more now, it's more and it's better and truthfully, even if it's a bad idea (which it probably is, he has to admit), Scott thinks it's one of the best decisions he's ever made.

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: this was only supposed to be about 2,000 words long. obviously, I can't shut up. Also, I can't write endings to save my life so I apologize. xo.


End file.
